“Check.” Logan blinked, looking at the holographic board in confusion for a moment, before a frown settled over his features. “Also mate.” The dark skinned private shook his head, a lopsided grin stretched across his face. His opponent flashed a grin of her own, grey eyes twinkling as she pressed the board to reset.

“You’re beating me faster and faster, Maya.” The woman in question laughed, drumming pale fingers against the table which held their game. “You might actually be able to beat Ed here soon.” Logan said of their auburn haired Corporal, catching the man's hazel gaze for a brief moment as the mention of his name.

“Not likely.” She snorted, sparing a glance over to the man in question, who sat with his back turned as his eyes flicked over an e-reader. “Corporal Sun Tzu royally trounces my ass every time he so much as looks at the board.”

Logan fixed her with a look, pushing one of his pawns forward to start the game. “Ed isn’t that good. He’s got some chops, but Sam always served his ass to him.” Maya raised an eyebrow, mirroring Logan’s opening move. “What was the final score again?”

“Something along the lines of 12-13, her favour.”

“Actually, it was 13-13.” The corporal glanced over his shoulder, his comrades fixing him with a suspicious look. “We had a private final match.” Logan shook his head, as Maya grinned widely at Ed. “What?”

“Private? Never pegged you as the type for those kinds of games, Ed.” She winked, sparing a glance to the board as Logan stroked his goatee for a moment before he knocked another pawn forward. Once again, she mirrored the move, earning a disgruntled grunt from her opponent. “C’mon, Logan, I don’t have all day to trounce your ass.”

“Me and Sam had a purely professional relationship, regardless of your baseless accusations.” There was a moment’s pause, before the corporal spun his chair around to face the board proper. “It’s just nice to play a game every now and again without the peanut gallery.” Sparing a glance down at the board, he moved Logan’s queen. “Checkmate, by the way.”

Logan blinked once, as Maya floundered to see a way out. Edward grinned, tucking his e-reader into his pocket. “You can’t do that, Ed! He never would have thought of that!”

“It’s my job to guide you, even if sometimes it means I have to put you in your place.” Rising from his seat, he rubbed his knuckle on Logan’s head, who simply grunted in annoyance, resetting the board. “I suspect our newest member has gotten himself into some kind of shit by now, since it shouldn’t take an hour to fetch some coffee.”

“It’s a big ship, he probably just got lost.” Logan replied, as Maya sighed and rose from her seat. “Aren’t we playing another?”

“Nope, Ed’s got me going to find Roger.” She ran her hands through her short black hair for a moment, as Ed fixed her with a look.

“I never said to.” She jabbed an accusatory finger into his chest, earning a grin. Despite her apparent sourness, she smiled good naturedly.

“I can read your face like a damn book, Ed. ‘Oh, Maya, be a dear and fetch the poor boy for me?’ It’s written all over your sorry mug.” She threw her hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just too nice for my own damn good!” Ed snatched her empty seat, watching her punch the door access panel. “And for the record, those low cut shirts were not purely professional, Ed.” The corporal rolled his eyes as the door hissed shut.

Logan shook his head in amusement, moving one of his pawns forward. “I wasn‘t aware your face spoke like some old British man.” A few moves passed in companionable silence, before Logan spoke again. “A private match though? Does that even really count?” Edward was silent for a moment, before a wry smile stretched across his face. There was silence between the two as slow realization dawned on the private’s face. “You didn’t.”

“It was one hell of a private match.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roger Pollard sat lazily on one of the spare fuel units in the shuttle bay, sipping at his lukewarm coffee as the technicians went about their regular maintenance on the Kodiak’s. Rubbing a hand against the short brown stubble that wrapped around his chin, his jade eyes watched with feigned interest, even if his mind was on other things. Predominantly the boredom. So far, the Call of Victory had been about as dull as boot camp. It didn’t help that he’d been told nothing but rumours of how bloody badass the Commander was, constantly heading into the fray. Disappointing didn’t even really sum up his feelings about the giant floating tub. Even footsteps to his right drew his gaze, and the private grimaced at the sight of Maya Salazar. “I was hoping you wouldn’t come after me for at least another ten minutes. Circle back around and then I’ll come along willin-ow!”

Hoisting him up via a vice grip on his ear, Maya smiled, although it wasn’t exactly the most comforting thing he’d ever seen. “How about we go now, mmkay?” She released him, grinning all the wider as he muttered a few swears under his breath.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Save it for the officers, Roger.” She snorted. “Hell, you probably don’t even need it for them.”

“What about dear old Leo?” The man’s reputation had preceded him enough that even the relatively fresh private even knew he was and what he was like.

That gave her pause, and she scratched at her neck awkwardly. “Good point…why don’t we wait a bit before making enemies of the command staff? Much better suited to a Monday.” The marines started back the way Maya had come, travelling silently before Roger decided to break the ice.

“We’ll need to hit the mess for more coffee.”

“Procrastinating already? Oh, Ed is going to love you to pieces.” They rounded the corner and started down the hall towards the lift. “Have you heard the rumour kicking around?” Roger shook his head, stuffing his hands in the pockets as they boarded the lift. “Apparently we’ve got some high ranking brass on board.”

“Great, more people with a stick up their ass.”

“Captain Horn.”

Roger blinked once. “Wait…ain’t the Commander Horn?” Maya nodded with a knowing smile. “So then who the hell is…oh!”

“That’s the thought.”

Roger sighed, leaning on the railing as the lift rumbled to life. “Well, that’s just charming. Daddy comes to see his baby and we all get our heads torn off in the process.” Maya laughed, thumping the private on the arm.

“Daddykins is just worried. You’d be the same way if you had kids.” The lift opened, and the marines disembarked. “Assuming the rumour is true. Gossip isn’t exactly reliable.”

“Like the shit I’ve heard about our armourer? A half-breed krogan with territory issues and arms the size of me.”

“That TJ chick?”

Roger blinked in surprise. “Chick? It’s a woman?” His mind immediately began conjuring an image of what such a thing would look like, and he mock-gagged. “I’m avoiding the armoury.” They entered the mess moments later, noting the bitter moods of the few crew kicking around the area. A few muttered words about a Captain were heard, but other than that, no real clues materialized. “Maybe we should hurry back…”

“I’m inclined to agree.” They wasted no time filling up the cups of coffee for Logan and Edward, before grabbing their own and heading down the corridor towards the crew quarters. “With a little bit of luck, we’ll be able to slip into the room without running into this Captain.”

“Fortunately for you, I’m a lucky guy.” Roger winked as they rounded a corner, only to come face to face with a slab of a man decorated in more medals than either had fingers. There was a brief moment of silence as the marines craned their heads to look up at the rough face, before both visibly swallowed at the disapproving glare on the man’s face.

“What was that about being lucky?” Maya hissed under her breath, quickly shoving both her mugs into the private’s arms and snapping a salute. “Sir!” Roger swore, setting the mugs down carefully before mirroring the action.

The Captain returned the salute. “At ease.” They obeyed quickly, watching as he gave them both a slow once over, eyes narrowing when he finished the impromptu inspection. “Judging by your posture and your physique private, I would suggest more time in the gym, and less time in the mess hall.” Roger didn’t dare break the man’s gaze.

Operative Invaru, appearing from behind the massive Captain, spoke quickly. “Sir, these are Private Pollard and Spec-”

“I don’t care about names, only performance. I’m not liking what I’m seeing.”

“Sir, Private Pollard is a fresh recruit. He’s only been in active service for as long as the Call of Victory and a large portion of his training was dedicated to Kodiak piloting. Lt. O’Ryan will have him up to speed ASAP.” Maya spoke quickly, but in a respectful tone he’d never really heard the usually rough woman use.

The Captain’s gaze shifted to her. “Are you trying to make up excuses for the Private here, Specialist? If he needs you to stand up for him, then you are only solidifying the fact that he needs to train harder. Operative Kelly, continue with the tour. We're done here." He moved past them, the marines parting to let him past. Operative Invaru followed behind silently, and Roger bit his lip long enough for the two to get out of ear shot.

Once they felt safe enough, the private growled. “When his ship crashes because his pilot is too much of a roid monkey, I’m going to piss on his grave.” Maya patted his shoulder.

“I don’t think the Commander will appreciate that.”

“If the Commander is anything like his father…”

“Stuff it. Last thing I need is one of the vets hearing you trash talking and putting you in the Med-bay. Grab the coffee and let’s get moving.”

“Yes, yes, poor little Roger can’t fight the big bad marines.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” She grinned as the private retrieved the mugs. “Can’t have someone breaking your precious little face before I do.”

“You’re all heart, Maya.”

"That was reckless," the Illusive Man scolded as he lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. A hologram of Kai Leng stood before on the projection pad of his quantum entanglement communicator. Hands were placed behind him in the small of his back, standing with feet spread to shoulder-width apart, and his eyes forward. The assassin was receiving a verbal beat-down from his employer over his mission to take out the asari commando, Aleena. His actions would have sparked an interstellar incident if it hadn't have been for his use of a tactical smoke grenade to clear the area of any witnesses.

"Titus recovered the body to the Vindicator. He's having it sent to you as we speak." It was no excuse; Leng never gave excuses. He simply gave the Illusive Man the information he wanted.

The Man took in another brief drag of his cigarette and then stood up from his chair. His tall figure cast a shadow across the glistening black tiles, blocking out the center of the large violet star behind him. "Good. But the Counsel and the Alliance are conducting two seperate, but very thorough, investigations into what happened on Elysium. I don't want you anywhere inside of their territories until Cerberus can clean this mess up. Just because there are no bodies, doesn't mean that you didn't leave behind a trace of evidence. Return to the Terminus at once; head back to Omega, and continue to keep an eye on Grayson. With Aleena out of the way, he's become our top priority, aside from the Collectors."

Leng returned a stiff nod and said, "Understood."

"I hope so," the Illusive Man retorted. "Don't fail me, Leng."

The transmission was cut on Kai Leng's part, but the Illusive Man didn't return to his seat. Just as anticipated, there was a tone and the projector pad lit up for a second time. The hologram of two more figures materialized where the image of the assassin once stood. Miranda Lawson and Jacob Taylor stood next each other, their posture far more relaxed than the last person to speak with their employer.

It was Miranda that spoke first, as always. "The clean-up on Anhur is just about finished. Our front organizations have contributed a large sum of resources into not only assisting in making everything look like another post-war rebellion, but also ensuring that no evidence of the Collectors or Commander Horn's team is left lying around. So far, the Alliance investigators haven't discovered anything remarkably unusual."

"I'm relieved to understand that the Collector's invasion of Anhur is going unnoticed," the Man said. "Good work, Miranda."

"This is going to be a real shock to the system for Commander Shepard," Jacob commented. "Asleep for two years...? If I were the commander, I'm not sure I'd believe that thousands of colonists just up and disappear."

The Illusive Man returned to his seat where a woman, who had appeared out of the shadows, gently placed a half-full glass of scotch on the arm rest. When he sat down, he lowered his cigarette into his ash tray and plucked up the glass to take a sip. "I agree completely, Jacob," he finally said. "And that's why we're not going to come out with everything right away and expect the commander to believe us. Shepard will have to learn what has been happening the hard way. And I expect you two remain absolutely quiet about the Collectors after the commander is fully revived."

The Man tapped a button on a small haptic interface that materialized above his chair's right arm and a larger interface popped into existence over his right shoulder. It was a list of locations and numbers. "A week prior to the Normandy's demise at the weapons of the Collectors, Aria T'Loak had discovered why several human colonies had simply vanished. Her and her scouts had stumbled across a trade between a Blue Suns party and several Collectors on Omega. After they crashed the little meeting, one of Aria's men discovered a datapad on a Blue Suns merc and handed it over to her. This information was what she saw on the screen."

Miranda and Jacob looked from their boss to the figures hovering in the background of his mysterious office.



"Those are... population totals," Jacob said in disbelief. "Earth? They've targeted Earth?"

The Illusive Man lowered his head and swirled the scotch around in his glass for a second, contemplating what to say next. Finally, he adjusted himself in his chair and said, "Obviously, the Blue Suns weren't aware of the many other targets the Collectors had in mind. That's why colonies like Anhur aren't listed, and this list was intercepted over a year ago. So far, none of these listed have fallen under attack, or vanished. But I have the unsettling feeling that they will go dark, soon. What makes tracking them, and intercepting them, so difficult is that we've realized the Collectors don't have the numbers to abduct entire colonies; only small settlements and cities without much security or established infrastructure. New Thebes was a target because of the post-war instability. The destruction left over from the Anhur Rebellions provided them with enough cover to make anything go unnoticed. If the Collectors attack any of the one's listed... by the time we realize it, we may be too late to stop them."

Miranda raised her knuckles to her chin and asked, "How many vessels do the Collectors have?"

"Right now; we suspect they may only have two. Commander Horn nearly destroyed one of them, but the Titan met its match. Regardless, its heavily damaged and vulnerable. If we can find it, we can narrow our targets down to just the one cruiser, and - with a bit of luck - track its movements."

"We've already lost two good commanding operatives in Omni Cell, sir," Jacob noted. "And from the recent reports I've read... we've nearly lost a third. If Omni needs a new recruit, I volunteer for the job." Jacob took a small step forward and placed his hands behind his back. But the Illusive Man only shook his head.

"No, Jacob," the Man said. "I need you with Miranda on the Lazarus Project. That space station would be vulnerable otherwise, and I can't risk Commander Shepard's body a second time." The operative nodded his understanding, though looked slightly disappointed when he stepped back in line with his colleague. "Omni does need two new commanders to replace the ones we lost. With a full team focused solely on the crippled cruiser, we'll be able to overwhelm them."

"Sounds good. Jacob and I will continue to monitor Shepard. We'll update you as the Lazarus Project progresses."

The Illusive Man nodded his approval and cut the transmission. When the room was once again quiet, he turned his chair around to face the violet star and took another sip of the scotch. When he lowered the glass, he looked down and at the barely noticable reflection of himself in the cylinder. He could make out the tiny blue lights that were his eyes... the eyes that were given to him.




"Good!" Villayn yelled, blocking a solid punch delivered by Braden to his forearm. The boy was learning, and learning fast, and the Captain knew it was mostly due to the rage that the young human had pent up inside. His instruction was well-received, and it was being put to good use. His sparring technique for releasing stress and anxiety was working well for the biotic. It was difficult, at first, to get Braden to accept his offer to spar. When he first arrived outside of the boy's quarters and knocked, all he received was pure silence in response. But persistent knocking after EDI informed him that Braden was, indeed, in there and wide awake finally got him at least a 'What do you want?'

After a minute of explaining to the human how much punching someone helped release that pressure cap that desperately needed loosening, Braden finally gave in and followed the turian down to the gym. Villayn started first by teaching him how to properly position himself in a hand-to-hand fight. Knees slightly bent at thirty degrees, feet shoulder-width apart, hands in the air with palms open. After the boy learned the basics with shuffling his feet and throwing a few solid punches, the captain moved on to more advance moves; kicking, dodging, weaving in and out, and recovering quickly after being knocked down - which Braden was demonstrating his mastery of right now after being thrown across the mat.

The boy rolled back and kicked his feet high in the air while simultaneously pushing off with his hands behind his shoulders. He used his body's momentum and arched to his heels, bringing himself back up in a brief second. But Villayn was no longer holding back. He had authorized Braden to do whatever was necessary to defend himself, which included using his biotics. As the captain had told him: in reality, there are no rules in war. It's a fight for your life, and only the strongest survive. As the turian charged him head-on, Braden had just enough time to build up the energy around him and manipulate enough gravity to pick Villayn up off of his feet. While the turian was suspended in mid-air, Braden charged forward and kicked off of his left foot, using his right to deliver a blow to the mid-section and released the gravitational hold he had on Villayn. The captain was sent backwards and crashing to the ground.

"Excellent!" he said with a prideful laugh. He then his talons up as he caught his breath. "Very good, boy. I think that's enough for one day."

Braden relaxed his stance and lowered his fists. The blue sarks of dark energy around his body faded into oblivion, and the teenager shook his head of the dizzyness that using such energy typically caused. His steps were light, only unstable, as he moved away and off the mat. "God, I need some food."

"You and me, both," Villayn replied. "How do you feel?"

"Sick in my head."

The turian bellowed, but shook his head and said, "No, I meant, do you feel any better now that you've got some of that anger out of your system?"

Braden looked up at him, but was silent for a moment before replying. "I guess so."

"Give it some time. I'm no expert on human emotions, but... I'm not a stranger to betrayal, either. Do you know why I left the turian military and became a pirate?" The boy wasn't sure he was in the mood in the story, but he shook his head "no" and looked back to Villayn for one anyway. "I used to be as naive as any other die-hard soldier," the captain went on. "There was once a time where I would obey any order, even it meant suicide. I fought at Shanxi; and yes, I killed your kind. But after the war, I taught myself to accept you humans. It wasn't until I began to notice the seperate opinions of the Turian Heirarchy - the racism, the disdain - that I realized soldiers like me were the real victims of war. We were puppets to them; just pawns in a game of ego-manipulated politics. Millions of turians were ready to accept humanity into the rest of the universe, but there just had to some higher up the food chain that thought otherwise. Their own xenophobia trickled down to the other colonies in our systems and spread an infectous influence. A lot of that hatred still exists today..."

The teen only looked down at the floor, unsure of what to say. Humans were no different, really. Villayn had every right to feel ashamed of his people for their opinions, but Braden felt the exact same animosity toward his fellow man. Prejudice will always be a vice in any culture; it didn't matter if you were human, turian, salarian, or even an esteemed asari. The quarians were a prime example; being a largest political target of racism for every sentient species. It was sad, but true.

"Come on," Villayn said after a while. "Time to get you some food."

"Sure," Braden said, nodding. He fell in behind Villayn as they left the gym and headed for the mess hall.

The tour was not going smoothly to say the least. Captain Horn was everything Commander Horn wasn't. He was strict, disciplined, cold, and completely disrespectful of anyone below him. If it weren't for the fact that Kelly was the temporary lead of the Call of Victory, he would probably look at her in disdain as well. Already the man had nearly broken TJ's arm and insulted several marines on their trip through the third floor. They were on their way to the Armoury now to see Lieutenant O'Ryan and some of the Titan marines, but Kelly had a bit of time to ask a couple of questions. "Captain Horn?" She asked, Grayson stopped and looked at her.

"You have a question Operative Invaru?"

"A couple actually." Mustering her reserves of will to stand directly up to the man without so much as a tremble. "First question would be as to why you are really here." She stated it in a matter of fact tone, but beneath the surface she was really asking him 'Why are you here insulting our ship and our crew?'. Grayson looked down, his features appearing as if they were chiselled from stone for all the emotional reference they gave off.

"Officially I'm here on an inspection. Unofficially, I'm here to visit my son. It would appear that part is impossible."

"When was the last time you saw your son?" Kelly asked, and Horn cocked his head slightly.

"I fail to see how this is relevant." He stated, but straightened, seeing as there was no harm in answering. "If you must know...roughly over a year ago, a few days after the Citadel mission." He looked off into the distance for a moment. "He had changed, and we didn't part ways on the best of terms. I warned him that his new way of thinking would be the death of him, and he dismissed me as if I was some lowly grunt." Grayson said the last part with more than a hint of disdain, then returned his gaze to Kelly. "It would appear I was right once more."

"I think the Illusive man told you what happened to Jason." Kelly stated, and when Grayson didn't say anything she continued. "You can try and put up a hard front Captain, be the cold heartless leader of the Ascending Justice, but when you heard about your son nearly dying, you rushed out here to at least see if your boy was alright." Grayson took a step forward, but Kelly didn't back down. He leaned down until his face was right in hers.

"I don't recall asking you to prod into my personal feelings on the matter Operative, and I would do well to advise you to stop before you get too deep into something you can't handle." Kelly just gave a smirk.

"Captain, as per Cerberus protocols, I am acting Commander of this vessel. While on this ship, I hold supreme rank on all things that happen aboard the Victory. Treating me as if I am some secretary to Jason will only end up with you getting a swift departure back to the Ascending Justice and a firm reprimand sent to the Illusive Man."

"Are you threatening me Operative?" The Captain said, straightening back up.

"I am simply stating something that someone such as yourself should already know...Captain." Her tone was completely neutral and professional, which made it impact harder on the Captain as he stared at her for a moment.

"Very well, you have stated your case Operative. Come, let us meet your Lieutenant O'Ryan." Kelly simply nodded, and made her way to the Armoury.

A short walk later, and they entered the room. TJ was wearing a welding helmet and seeming to perform some repairs on some armour. She stopped long enough to look up, grunt, and continue with her work. Captain Horn said nothing, and acted as if she wasn't even there as he continued past her to the firing range. Kelly stood by the window, Leonard was pacing on the other side with his eyes glued on the targets. Captain Horn didn't wait to get noticed, he simply barged inside.

The marines didn't turn, and continued firing until O'Ryan turned around and saw who it was. "Officer on deck!" He yelled. Instantly the firearms were at the marines side and they all saluted smartly. These were the veterans of the Titan, and as such, were at an advantage when compared to the recruits of the Victory. Captain Horn returned the salute.

"At ease marines." Horn stated as he looked them all over. His face gave nothing away, but he didn't say anything either. He must have been satisfied with their physique and discipline. Grayson looked over to O'Ryan. "Lieutenant, you're the Battalion Commander here on the Call of Victory?"

"Yes sir." O'Ryan stated, remaining in a perfect position of 'at ease'. Grayson gave a nod as he brought the targets forward. As he inspected them, he gave a slight nod at the rate of accuracy within the marines.

"It would seem you're doing your job well Lieutenant." O'Ryan simply nodded.

"These marines are veterans of the SIC Titan sir. With respect to them, they didn't need much guidance. It looked like my predecessor, Lieutenant Nicola and Commander Horn know how to train their marines." Grayson continued to look at the charts.

"So it would seem. One thing he can do right. What about those marines who came with the Call of Victory?" Grayson asked.

"They need a little work sir, but I'll have them battle ready in no time."

"Good to hear Lieutenant. Keep up the good work. Dismissed." Grayson saluted, which was returned by O'Ryan and the marines.

"Yes sir." Leonard stated, before walking over and prepping new targets. Grayson and Kelly both walked out of the firing range, and out of the Armoury.

"It seems you have at least one capable officer among your crew Operative." Grayson stated as they walked on.

"They are all more than capable if given a chance to perform, rather than submit to judgement." Kelly retorted, which earned silence from the Captain. They came up to the medical bay, and Horn stopped . Kelly looked up at him, his hands clasped behind his back.

"If you wouldn't mind Operative, could I have a moment alone with my son?" Kelly stared up at him, knowing this was a hard thing for someone who puts on such a strong front to ask. She gave a nod, and Horn walked inside. A few moments later, Dr. Grass came out and stood next to Kelly in front of the medical bay.

"So that would be the illustrious father of our very own kamikaze soldier?" Dr. Grass asked as he tapped several things on his omni-tool.

"Yes it would." Kelly answered in a polite tone.

"Hmmm...I can definitely see why Horn wouldn't want to speak of him. He walked in, demanded I get out in the middle of diagnostics, and when I insisted on continuing them, he simply glared at me with such intensity I wondered if my glasses were going to break." Grass replied. Kelly just gave a small smile.

"He's a hard man to like...that's for sure." She stated as they waited a few minutes for the door to open. Eventually it did and Captain Horn stepped out.

"You may return to your duties Dr. Grass." Grayson stated, and Kelly looked over to see a comment coming out of Lincoln's mouth. Kelly interjected.

"He would love to." She stated politely as she gave him a gentle push towards the door. He looked back at her, but didn't argue as he disappeared within the confines of the medical bay. Grayson looked after him, and gave a gruff grunt as he looked back at Kelly.

"He seems to have an attitude, that should have been fixed when he was first posted with you."

"Maybe so, but suppressing one's ability to express themselves ends up with them becoming demoralized to perform their task." Kelly replied.

"This is the military, we operate with extreme discipline and regulations." Grayson said as they both started walking towards the elevator.

"This is Cerberus. You, above all else, should know we don't operate like the Alliance." Kelly replied once more, and Grayson went silent once again. She could tell he wasn't used to someone actually speaking up to him. They reached the elevator, and waited for it to come up. "Do you mind if I ask what you said to Horn, if you said anything at all?" Kelly asked as politely as she could muster.

"How is that any of your business?" Horn asked, his voice gruff and obviously displeased at being asked such personal questions. Kelly just shook her head.

"Captain, we're not aboard your ship. You don't need to continue acting as if you have absolutely no emotions while aboard the Victory." Grayson said nothing, and when the elevator came up, he stepped inside with silence. Once they pressed the button to the Battery level, Grayson continued to stare ahead.

"I asked for his forgiveness." Grayson stated, his voice still filled with gravel, but also some sorrow. Kelly looked up at him, but he did not return her gaze. He held himself well, showing no signs of what his voice conveyed.

"May I ask what for?" She stated, curiosity getting the better of her.

"Isn't it obvious?" Grayson returned.

They spent the rest of the drop in silence.

>.>

I'm on the wrong ship, again.

I told you.

Humans...

Oh that's why.

I was in the rest of the galaxy.

Turians aren't the sharpest knives in the drawer.

Braden Reynolds

Lance Williams snuggles in close to Vala on her recovery bed.

I really wouldn't do that, Lance.